The light burned like moonfire.
Evelyn stood at the center of the tomb, glowing from within. Her eyes were pure white, her hair lifting as if caught in a silent wind. Cracks formed on the stone floor beneath her feet, glowing with silver light that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
The Firstborn screamed, falling to one knee. Smoke curled from his skin.
Lucien struggled to rise. "Evelyn... stop! You'll burn yourself out!"
But she didn't hear him.
Something had snapped inside her—like a lock breaking.
Memories flooded her mind in flashes:
Her mother's lullaby, a hidden whisper: "You are the moon's flame."
The night of the fire—the screams, the smell of blood.
A figure in the shadows... not human... watching.
And then: power. Not borrowed, not forced. Hers.
The Firstborn lunged in desperation—but Evelyn raised her hand. Light burst from her palm and struck his chest.
BOOM.
He was thrown against the wall with a scream. His white armor cracked, his skin blackened. He vanished into smoke—teleporting before the final blow could land.
Silence fell.
The chamber dimmed. The silver glow faded from Evelyn's body.
She dropped to her knees, gasping.
Lucien rushed to her side. "Evelyn!"
Her hands trembled. "What... what was that?"
Lucien stared at her, eyes wide. "Your true blood. That wasn't just moonlight. That was celestial energy."
She blinked. "What does that mean?"
He swallowed hard. "It means your bloodline isn't just powerful—it's not entirely human."
Evelyn stared at him. "What?"
Lucien hesitated. "I didn't want to say it until I was sure... but the way your power behaves... your mother must have had vampire ancestry. Maybe even celestial blood. That's why Seraphine wants you. You're a hybrid, Evelyn."
Evelyn shook her head. "No... no, I'm just a girl. My mom was human. My dad—"
Lucien placed a hand gently over hers. "Then tell me, do you remember your father?"
She froze.
"No," she whispered. "Not his face. Not his voice. Nothing."
Lucien's expression softened. "There's a reason for that. Someone didn't want you to remember."
Her heart pounded.
What if her whole life—her past—was a lie?
She looked at Lucien, desperation in her voice. "What if I'm not even... me?"
He shook his head. "You're Evelyn. I've seen who you are when you fight, when you care. It's not your blood that defines you. It's your choices."
His hand lingered on hers. Warm. Real.
She looked down, then up into his eyes.
"You kissed me," she said quietly.
He gave a faint smile. "You noticed."
"I noticed everything," she whispered.
For a moment, the fear faded. Their hands stayed locked.
But Lucien's expression darkened. "The Firstborn escaped. He'll report back. Seraphine knows you've awakened. She'll come faster now."
Evelyn exhaled. "Then we have to get ahead of her."
Lucien stood. "There's one place she can't reach. Not yet. A sanctuary hidden deep in the Hollow Vale—a place where magic is still pure."
Evelyn frowned. "Then let's go."
Lucien helped her to her feet. "There's one problem. We'll have to go through the Ashlands."
"Ashlands?"
"A cursed forest. Creatures... twisted by Seraphine's magic. Even I barely escaped last time."
Evelyn squared her shoulders. "I'm not afraid."
He looked at her with something close to pride. "You really are your mother's daughter."
As they left the tomb, Evelyn turned one last time.
A strange energy shimmered across the walls.
Something was watching.
Something old.
And then she heard it—soft, a whisper only she could hear.
"Evelyn... awaken more... set me free..."
She stiffened.
Lucien looked back. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she lied.
But her fingers wouldn't stop trembling.
Later that night, in an abandoned cottage they found on the edge of the woods, Evelyn sat near the fire while Lucien tended to his wounds. The glow from the flames flickered across his bare chest where his shirt had been torn.
Evelyn tried not to look. She failed.
He caught her staring.
"You're quiet," he said.
She shrugged. "Just tired. Also maybe part vampire, celestial, dream-warrior? I don't know."
He chuckled softly. "Still funny, though. That's good."
She looked at him seriously. "What happens if I lose control?"
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
Lucien stood, walked to her, and knelt. "Evelyn. Even if you fall apart—I'll be right there. Every step."
She felt her breath catch.
Slowly, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle—almost reverent.
"You're not alone," he whispered.
And this time, she kissed him.
Far away, in a tower made of bone and shadow, Seraphine stood before a burning mirror.
The Firstborn knelt, trembling. "She's awakened, my Queen."
Seraphine smiled. "Good."
"But she is... not what we expected. She has celestial fire."
"Better still," Seraphine purred. "It means the seal will not just break—it will shatter."
She turned to the mirror.
A face began to form.
Eyes like black holes.
A voice like thunder echoed from the glass.
"Bring her to me, Seraphine. The key... must turn."
Seraphine bowed. "As you command, my god."